Pokemon World Festival
by Nazran
Summary: The PLB has come together to announce the greatest event of cooperation in their history: The Pokemon World Festival. Experts from all walks of the Pokemon world; professors, breeders, coordinators and trainers alike; are coming together for this history making moment. And Ash Ketchum, having vanished years earlier returns to a mixed reception from friends old and new. Slow Updates
1. Prologue

_**Summary:**_ The Pokémon Leagues of the four regions have come together to host the largest event in League history; the Pokémon World Festival. An exposé of battling, contests, lectures and events focussed entirely on Pokémon. Anyone who is anyone in the world of Pokémon will attend along with thousands of other enthusiasts. Legends in the world of battling and coordinating will compete for world titles. The question on everyone's mind? Will Ash Ketchum; the most promising trainer of the decade come out of hiding to compete in this grand tournament?

Years after the events of the anime Ash has reached a new level of training brilliance, but has all but disappeared into the wilds. No one has seen him in years and the general populace has no idea what to think. He had conquered the conferences of the four regions and yet never took the Elite Four Challenges or the Championship Battles. Now he is returning for the Pokémon World Festival, the epitome of the Pokémon world. How will old friends and new react to his return?

**Focuses on the Human and Pokémon relationships rather than some looming villain or evil organisation.**

_**Author: **__**Nazran**_

_**The Pokémon World Festival**_

_**Prologue**_

_**. —◊— .**_

The brilliant orange hair of the young woman stood stark against the white marble inlay of the massive citadel. She stood before the great dark gates, the doors open wide inward and a collection of other people trickling in. They ignored the splendor of the building before them, the statement of power that it was. The Indigo Plateau—the center of the Pokémon League's power in the Kanto and Johto regions of the world. Behind them stretched the green fields, flowering in the renewing spring and cobbled stone paths winding through with the various smaller stadiums for the preliminary matches of the Kanto and Johto Conferences before the actual finals matches in the Indigo Stadium. The stone appeared like veins, reaching out through the green and deep blue of the famous flowers to dark spots in the life of the league. She had been called as acting leader of the Cerulean City Gym to a meeting by the Champion and the other members of the Elite Four. Misty stepped forward past the threshold and into the headquarters' courtyard.

She made her way across the expanse of stone to another set of smaller glass doors, held open by the electronic systems present throughout the building. She scanned in with her trainer ID, electronic interface emblazoned in the red and white of official colours and the synthesized female voice welcomed her, directing her to a conference room that was in a larger part of the building. The others around her did the same, getting different personal greetings based on what they did. She recognized gym leaders from both regions, other famous figureheads in disciplines all to do with Pokémon.

"Misty!" a familiar voice called out to her. She turned and saw Brock, the rugged man making his way to her quickly. He was taller, broader and still looking as tough as the stone. His hair was neater than it once had been and he was dressed in a far less casual manner than he had when they were but children. Skin appearing freshly scrubbed his strong physique silhouetted by his fine black shirt, covered by a cardigan in burnt orange that cut steeply down his black under shirt and whose sleeves were hiked up his forearms. Worn but clearly well-made jeans met boots more suited to cave spelunking than the white marble of the building. He reached her and swept her up in strong arms, hugging her. She couldn't help but smile at her childhood companion, "It's been too long Misty! You look even lovelier than I remember." She set her down, looking at her face with a grin.

"What are you doing here?" She asked quizzically, not expecting her old friend.

"Why they needed to bring a little class to this place." He struck a mock dignified pose. Then it dropped away after a moment. "But actually, the summons said they wanted breeders present."

"You haven't changed Brock." She laughed and smiled.

"And you have. It's been what? Four years? Five?"

She felt her smile falter, a frown skimming across her lips. "Not since he left." They both knew who 'he' was. Another old friend.

Brock blinked, "Yes. Have you heard anything?"

The redhead looked up at the man before her, "No, I had hoped maybe you had."

"No. Nothing."

She made a noncommittal noise and together they walked into the hall. The silence was awkward but she busied herself examining her surroundings. The chamber was a large amphitheatre, seats enough to sit the many dozens who had attended were lined in neat rows around a central dais. Sea green eyes picked out familiar faces on the dais; Lance, the Dragon Master and Champion; Lorelei the Ice Master; Bruno, Fight Master; Agatha, Ghost Master; Will, Psychic Master; Karen, Dark Master; Koga, Poison Master; and Blaine, Fire Master. Screens behind them lit up, showing more faces familiar only in so far as she had seen a select few through the PokéNet battle coverage. Champions and Elite Four members, gym leaders and coordinators, breeders and professors; all joined through technology for the single largest meeting in the history of the League.

"Brock . . . Do you have any idea what this thing is supposed to be?"

"I guess we'll find out here in a few minutes." Brock shrugged, seemingly subdued from his normal behaviour considering the population of women that were in the amphitheatre.

Lance coughed roughly into a microphone, the blaze of red hair sharp atop his head, "Welcome." He laughed nervously, the youngest member of the League elite Lance was but twenty seven, younger than Misty herself, but was widely considered one of the most powerful trainers known. "Now, we, the Champions of the four regions," he gestured to Steven Stone and Cynthia behind him on screens, "Have been discussing an event for several years now. The other higher ups here in the League have agreed and funding has been secured finally. We are proud to present to present to you the Pokémon World Festival!" He flourished and a platform rose up out of the floor in front of him. Similar scenes were taking place on the screens where others were conferencing in. A model was revealed, an island, looking for all the world like some exclusive resort. Scale representations of dozens of buildings and towers were represented. Murmuring broke out immediately among the crowds and several trainers were shouting questions or cheers.

Cynthia spoke up, "It has taken a lot of work to get to this point, and everything has been kept a secret as possible." She answered the unasked question. "We are telling you now because in four months this event will be taking place. The League has called you all here today to begin to iron out the details. Facilities have been built and rough plans for events have been created, however we need you for further input and your various skills with Pokémon to help pull this off, the greatest event in League history."

"That's right," Steven continued, the champion's hands clasped behind his suited back. "The Pokémon World Festival was an idea we three had but we are not the ones who have planned the event as extensively. That credit belongs to Pokémon League Board, many members of the PLB have worked tirelessly in secret to bring this about and I think they deserve a round of applause no?" The audiences all clapped, loudly as various men and women in suits from the amphitheatre stood and bowed. Some were known; a few gym leaders here and there, a Professor or two, other specialists and business men. "Now then, we will be breaking up into groups based on expertise data logged in each of your League IDs and there brainstorming and planning will continue further." Many people stood to ask questions, some raising their hands, others shouting loudly, "All questions will then be answered. Please direct your attention to the screens to find your groups." The silver haired Steel Master swept a hand to the screens behind him.

The visions of other League headquarters, the ones in Sinnoh and Hoenn regions blinked off, switching to lists of names with large headings denoting the group capability. Immediately people crowded down from their chairs, rushing and impatient to get there information. The red head stayed seated, knowing it would be sometime for the crowds to clear enough for her to see her grouping. Brock was distracted by a group of Joys and Jenny's, the newer younger generation, wandering by chatting idly. She rolled her eyes, some people never changed. Glancing back to the podium the water trainer saw Lance, dual champion of both Johto and Kanto, slip out of a side door subtly.

_How odd._

The champion sneaking out of the meeting that he had helped orchestrate was rather strange. What she would give to know what Lance was up to.

_**. —◊— .**_

The sun rose bright over the distant fields, flaring over the horizon in all its brilliance. The beams shot through a small stream of smoke rising from a cook fire on the side of a steep cliff. The ledge was small, open to a large drop, down into a sheer canyon. Against the mountain wall a small black crack was visible, an entrance into the heart of the mountain. A small black metal pot hung over the fire, rigged on a frame of light metal rods and within the pot bubbled a fragrant chunky liquid. A ladle hung over the lip of the pot.

Movement. A young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties sank onto a stone he used as a makeshift stool. Long jet black hair hung in a thick mess about his head, drooping down across his face and over the back of his neck. A blue and white clean cut jacket hung open over a dark shirt that flexed with muscle toned from long hours of training. Black cargo pants hung low on the man's hips, folding over rugged utilitarian boots laced tightly to his calves. A worn out faded ball cap, red and white, was squeezed over the hair, the brim pulled low over the dark amber brown eyes. A calloused hand dipped the ladle through the simple stew and pale lips slurped some of the liquid. The camper smile appreciatively at the rich flavour.

He scooped some of the liquid into a carved wooden bowl and grabbed a matching spoon. Pausing he reached into a large hiking bag and pulled out a vacuum packed bag filled with dark pellets. He pulled a short knife from its place clipped to a pocket on his pants and slit the bag open, tumbling out the pellets into a dish. More movement, a rustling from the man's sleeping bag and two long yellow ears sprouted from the fabric. A small yellow creature scampered out of the bag, nose twitching with his ears as he made his way to the bag. He made a happy sounds and dug into the food laid out for him.

"There ya go buddy. Breakfast time." The man's voice carried a deep affection for the small rodent.

"Chaaa." The creature sighed. Sleek fur was immaculately groomed over a lithe body, bright yellow crossed with darker shades of stripe. Thicker, stronger hairs were seen in the softer fur; these a deceptive defence mechanism of the mammalian beast.

He leaned back. His jacket swung open, revealing twelve spheres slightly smaller than golf balls–capsules of red and white each with a button, attached to two vertical strips of flexible magnetic material. Inside each was kept a powerful creature, a Pokémon, personally raised by the man to be a powerful competitive battler in regional competitions. Only one, the one that contained his starter, the happily munching Pikachu, was empty; he had learned many years before that keeping Pikachu out of his pokéball was best for his health. He had been granted an exception to the six Pokémon regulation some years before, he was allowed twelve as a special exemption for training. League rules still demanded a maximum of six on six battles with special cases of double and triple battles.

Golden brown eyes blinked, a dark spot had appeared in the distance against the fire of the sun. He watched it as it grew closer and closer, approaching at a near impossible speed. His yellow companion perked from his dish of food and the man stood, slowly slipping a gloved hand to one of the capsules in his jacket, unclipping it. A single press of the button and the ball grew to the size of large orange in his hand. There was little concern in his eyes, no anxiety crept through his body. He had lived in the wild for several years now, few Pokémon could match any one of his and almost certainly no wild creatures. In actuality a certain level of excitement bubbled within, it had been sometime since he had battled and he could tell that the beast approaching held considerable power.

The shape dropped, skimming close among the foothills that he could see before disappearing into the shadows of the canyon. He waited, tense for the moment when he would release his friend. A massive gust of wind whipping his coat out around him, and a shadow fell across him. He looked up into a familiar face. Before him, floating on wings far too small to support the massive frame, was a Dragonite. Not just any Dragonite, the Dragonite, a champion level Pokémon of incredible power. It stood more than half again as tall as a normal dragon type; twenty feet, not including the tail, of hard battled muscle covered in tough yellow and beige scales. Luminescent amber eyes looked at him from a stout round snout.

"Sol!" the man cried, "What're you doing all the way out here? How's Lance?"

The dragon made a deep echoing noise, leaning down and butting its head lightly against the trainer. Pikachu cried and jumped onto his master's head and then onto the much larger beast. Sol righted himself and nuzzled against the electric mouse on his broad shoulder. A great clawed paw reached behind it and withdrew a small panel from a satchel. The Pokémon held it out to the human before him.

"From Lance?" he asked, taking the tablet. The device light up on contact with his hand, scanning him before unlocking and revealing a recording. The Dragon Master's head appeared, a hologram above the computer. Lance and the trainer were old friends, only a couple years apart in age they had grown close some years before.

The hologram spoke, "Ash! How ya doing?" the recording of Lance grinned. "Better listen up, this is important. After all, it's not every day Sol agrees to ferry around these things. Anyways, it's happening man. Remember when we told you not to challenge the Elite four? Well this is why. The League, all of them–from Kanto, Johto, Sinnoh and Hoenn–have come into agreement finally. There's an event coming, one that I know you'll be interested in. it's being called the Pokémon World Festival. The first international meet of all the League's trainers and employees. Every trainer with any hint of talent is going to be there, every breeder, every watcher and professor and coordinator. It's the Pokémon event of a life time." The hologram smiled madly, "You better get here quick buddy because it's only a few months away." The hologram paused, brows creasing as if listening to something, "Shit. Okay look I gotta go, none of the others know that I know where you are. Agatha would kill me if she found out. Bye!" the screen went blank.

Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town licked his lips, looking up at the Pokémon that was his friend's starter. "Is that all Sol?" the Dragonite nodded. "Thank you for bringing this. I guess you'll want to go home now? Long trip." Another nod.

Ash smiled and waved. The beast gently plucked Pikachu from his shoulder and set him on Ash's head. Sol turned and with a visible tensing of its powerful body shot off at incredible speed, a second blast of wind nearly knocking the trainer over. Seconds later the beast had disappeared over the distant horizon, a quiet boom sounding and cone of white vapour clinging to the monster with the breech of sound barriers.

"What do you think Pikachu? A Pokémon World Festival."

The small powerhouse leaned down over his trainer's face, "Pika-pi! Pikachu!"

Ash smiled. "Yeah buddy, my thoughts exactly." He glanced down at the pokéball still in his hand. Still smiling he tossed the ball out over the abyssal drop before him, releasing the creature inside with a bright flash of light before the systems in the ball sucked the ball back to his hand. "Let's fly Charizard!"

_**. —◊— .**_

_**A/N:**_ I started this story after reading a few Pokémon fics that I quite enjoyed and the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. It will probably not see much screen time as a I work to finish an original for a close friend and some of my other fics but I'd thought I'd put this up in the meantime.

In other points move sets and abilities of Pokémon will be taken from bulbapedia. I am taking a few liberties to increase diversity and obviously (shown in this chapter in fact) changing a few bits of information; i.e. size and others. This will be explained in later chapters through the professors and discussions between characters. Pokémon will know multiple moves, separate from the four limit of the games and the limited use in the anime. I have not watched all of the anime in a long time but I will try to keep to canon mostly. Chapters will be longer in the future (this is about 2500 words without the A/Ns).

This fic operates on the assumption that by the time Ash had gone through the Kanto, Johto, Hoenn and Sinnoh leagues plus the Battle Frontier, he was about fifteen. He takes time to train and returns, challenging the leagues one after the other and winning the conferences. But never taking the challenge to the Elite Four or Champions. After finally taking the Silver Conference (Kanto) by storm he vanishes from the public eye. No one sees or hears from him again.

If you want to help out with this I need a few OCs with full six battler teams for later in the story. If you submit them in a PM I'll see about including them with full credit to you; I need Pokémon, personalities and trainer names/personalities. No legendaries please. If you want, include backstories and I'll develop the character into the story more, maybe. If none of you want to do this then I will take the time to create my own OCs, I just thought you might perhaps want to input something to this.


	2. Chapter I

_**A/N: **__ Chapter I. Bit better length at about 5.25k words. Some characters are going to be OC, it's been minimum 10 years since the anime if Ash had been theoretically aging during all of the seasons. Others, such as the Elite Four and Champions are going to invented personalities because frankly I haven't watched any Pokemon since the Johto League except sporadically. There;s entirely too many episodes for me to go through it all as well so I am relying on Bulbapedia for details and what I have watched or what I know for references to earlier times in the story. _

_**Author: **__**Nazran**_

_**The World Pokémon Festival**_

_**Chapter I**_

_**. — ◊ — .**_

"Gah, this is just ridiculous. Stupid Lance . . . not ready. What the hell did he think I would be doing?" a dark shape growled to himself. The barbs on his black gloves found scant purchase on the smooth walls. Finally he hauled himself over the crest of the wall, taking a moment to rest and shift his pack. It had been changed, switched for a lighter version, for he would be only a day's walk from shelter and would spend only a short time in the camp.

He crouched low between battlements on the wall and edged over the opposite side. A sharp breath through the nose and he dropped from the high wall. The fall was long but slowed by a rope he'd taken the time to secure to the wall and the metal spikes dragging deep on the wall. After a few seconds the sturdy young man hit the rough terrain below, rolling for several feet before stumbling upright.

"Chaa!"

"Shit sorry buddy," the dark clad figure apologized to his lifelong companion. The jostling had woken the small creature from a fitful slumber.

The Pokémon readjusted itself and fell back into restful unconsciousness. The man removed his cap and ran a hand through long hair before replacing the cap and sighing. A steady jog took form in his strides and he moved away from the fortress wall. Navigating through the familiarity of memory and the light from a crescent moon and the bright stars, here upon the Indigo Plateau. The path was one he picked himself as he moved, headed towards a lesser known entrance to the infamous Victory Road. Lance had shown it to him once, shortly after his victory in the Indigo Conference at the age of fifteen. They had spent time together training, though it had begun as a special invitation to the Conference Champion by the Elite Four and the League Champion. The entrance was a chute, a hidden chimney of sorts carved over centuries by water flow. It came out in the deeper recesses of the Road, those that only the very best were allowed to enter.

An hour of treading through crags and cliff sides, watching footing and being mindful of the sudden drops and sharp rises. And then he reached the stone. It was a dark disk, roughly shod as to look natural or near enough. Unless one knew what to look for it would appear as the tip of a great stone buried in the gravel and sand. Ash Ketchum, however, knew better than the average trainer for he was an elite member of the Inter-regional Pokémon League. He knelt and gripped the edge of the stone. A heave, his skin stretching tight over muscle and the stone revealed a dark hole.

A smile graced the pale lips of the trainer and he unshouldered his pack with a sigh, stowing his gloves away. Carefully the rough hands pulled his Pikachu from the bag. It then silently disappeared down the narrow hole. Ash wrapped his arms around the creature slumbering in his hands and carefully edged down the hole. His boots gripped the shaft sides hard and the trainer lowered himself down and then with one hand replaced the stone as best he could. A deeper breath and he released the hold, rocketing down into the depths of Mount Silver.

The fall was by no means smooth. His powerful arms and shoulders protected his closest friend as carefully as he could but it was jostling and hard all the same. The shaft dragged sharply along his back as it curved and sloped in different directions, sometimes even dropping off into falls. It lasted some minutes and in this time he contemplated the position he found himself. Lance had once again failed to plan accordingly.

_**. — ◊ — .**_

Ash tapped the wooden door softly, crouched close to the wall in his black garb. He had snuck into the Indigo Plateau with nightfall—after several weeks' hard travel atop the back of his great draconian Pokémon and then later on the back of his Blastoise to cross the larger waterways while Charizard rested in his pokéball. It had been a long travel and he expected Lance to be waiting for him. But Ash knew well his fame and decided to meet with the Dual Champion in secret first. Besides, if he should be spotted, well his mother and no doubt many of his old friends would be rather pissed at him for disappearing. He hadn't come out of the true wilds, into the public eye, in several years.

No answer at the door. He beat on it harder with a fist, anxiety tickling his neck. The Indigo Plateau was the height of power in the area, the pinnacle of the Kanto and Johto regions and it was thus carefully guarded. It was hard enough to get through the electronic safeguards without using his own ID–he'd had to steal one from a cleaner. It wasn't as if he could use any Pokémon he had with him to move, Agatha or Will would detect the expenditure of power. Then the trainer waited with baited breath, hoping against hope that Lance would open the bloody door. And so he did.

The normally primped crimson hair was frazzled and bedraggled, he was shirtless and had plain cloth pants slung low on his hips. His feet were bare, cold no doubt on the stone floor. The Champion's dark eyes widened when they beheld Ash Ketchum, his close friend, looking worn and dirtied from travel but crouched like some thief before his door. "What the fu–"

Ash pushed into the room, clamping a hand over the man's mouth. He quickly took in the room. It was wide, white stone and filled with lavish furnishings. A great bed, four cornered in thick canopy rested against the wall opposite a paneled set of displays, now dark. Seating for several people in a more casual setting rest in one corner, near a fireplace set in dark granite. Long curtains hung over wide openings that revealed a sweeping vista of the Plateau complex behind a railed balcony. It was about what could be expected from the Champion, he had taste for the richness afforded him by the position. The only time this was changed was when training demanded rough terrain and living.

Lance finally got over his shock enough to push ash away, "What in the name of Arceus are you doing here?" Ash raised an eyebrow at his friend. Lance grinned and embraced the only trainer to have defeated him in the past decade he had held station, "It's good to see you Ash. . . You wreak like a Tauros pen though."

"My training does afford me such . . . rich shelter Lance. Getting soft on me are you?" the dark hair man grinned back mischievously.

"Fuck off, you know the League doesn't like me running off. They were relieved when you left, no one else can threaten the champions." Lance sighed, "Well, that we know of. What are you doing here? The Festival is not for months still."

"Your message said to come and so I have. Of course, I do not have the luxury of your dragons either so I was a bit long but here I am."

"I meant in a few months! You shouldn't have been able to get here so damn quickly. What are we going to do? There's going to be a media uproar if you're seen . . . Actually, how in the hell did you get in here?"

"Lance, relax! No one saw me get in." A hand clapped onto the champion's shoulder.

"Okay, okay, okay." He took a deep breath, "What the fuck do we do?"

Ash slapped his own face a few times, trying to focus, "Right. I'll just go hide out in Victory Road, it's still closed to everyone but the Elite Four and past Conference Champions right?"

Lance snapped his fingers repeatedly, "Yes! That'll work. We'll get you into Victory Road. You can handle it yeah?" Ash raised an eyebrow, "Right . . . stupid question. Okay let's go."

Lance grabbed a jacket from a wrack near the door, throwing it on as they left. It was easier with Lance in tow, no one questioned his movements through the League facilities; he was the Regional Champion and the head of the battle division of the Kanto-Johto League through that title. A flash of the holographic display that flickered above Lance's left wrist and his Champion's ID unlocked every door and turned off every camera. A quarter hour of walking through the shadowed building and they reached a small stone courtyard toward the rear of the complex. The Indigo Plateau had been established many hundreds of years ago, with the inception of the pokéball and at the time war had been a very large concern. Thus the fortress had been built. The specifics were lost to the histories but no force had ever managed to take the plateau—though several had tried.

Lance handed him spiked black gloves, the grips of which were studded with many curved steel points, and a harness set matching the gloves for his boots. Ash shook his head in exasperation at the expectations held for him. Get here quickly, oh that's too quickly. Over the wall with you and hide in the caves. Never mind they be those which few trainers could stay within reliably and yet he was expected to do so for a fairly extended time period. With hardly a bath or shave in the interim and no fresh supplies.

"Over the wall, and quickly. If Agatha discovers this we're both screwed, and she is already suspicious of me."

"Well whose fault might that be Blackthorne?"

"Shut up and get climbing Ketchum." With those words Lance clasped his shoulder before turning and disappearing again. No doubt to hide their trail in the computer systems.

_**. — ◊ — .**_

When finally Ash tumbled free of the chute, rolling over his pack where it had halted at the bottom of a short drop. He tried to protect Pikachu from the worst of the impact but received a sharp jolt of electricity for failing to be perfect. The tips of his dark hair singed and curled, he shook the stiffness from his muscles, letting his companion scamper to the ground to keep watch. This deep in the Victory Road old and very powerful Pokémon dwelt; for he was beneath even the beginning of the road, in the heart of the world that lay in the roots of Mount Silver.

He released Infernape, the fighting ape creature immediately standing ready, light upon the balls of its five toed feet. It stood tall, long white fangs protruding from the crimson jowls and its brown-auburn fur was slick and well groomed. The bony plates on its shoulders, chest and hands twisted out of the fur. Its illumination glowed over the chamber providing Ash and Pikachu plenty of light and relaxed upon realizing its purpose. Many times before, even in this very chamber, the flame ape had done this, blazing bright his tail and hands in a smaller package than Charizard would present. Ash nodded to the creature and set up a simple camp, trusting his two Pokémon to keep the wild ones away with flame and lightning should they become aggressive.

Before long he had his sleeping mat lain out, a small bottle of fuel set to purpose with his iron pot and some water from a plastic bottle. Infernape obliged him with ignition. Dried meat, herb, spice and a few left over vegetables later he had a simple soup ready to eat. A stew if he perhaps let it rest for several hours more to marry flavor. He ladled a bowl out and was about to eat when a prickling travelled up his neck. It stopped the trainer cold and slowly the bowl and spoon found their way to the stone ground.

_Thwack!_ A sharp rap of wood upon his skull. _Thwack!_ Another strike, he fell sideways, rolling away from the offending stave. "You little blighter! More than four years missing and you don't even stop to say hello?" A high wheezing voice rasped out in the wavering light. "I would beat you black and blue for that!" _Thwack!_

"Agatha! Please!" Ash cried, knowing his Pokémon would offer no aid. And vaguely he caught a glimpse; they were unconscious, a Gengar's glowing eyes and Spiritomb's acid green skull face grinning at him from the edge of light, for Infernape burned eternally.

She had the uncanny ability to slip past any watch and had done so again. Spending so many decades immersed in the lore and training of the little understood ghost-type had given her strange powers, just as Bruno was unnaturally strong with his fighting types and Lorelei fond of low temperature and with high tolerance to extreme cold. The best of trainers took on traits of their type specialty if they so chose to train that way, it represented the deep connection to Pokémon they possessed. Agatha was of the better and most well-known examples. Ash himself had no such abilities; though when he had circuited the various League Conferences news shows and experts had speculated he could understand the language of the creatures he trained. He knew nothing of whether it was true, only that he understood nature of his friends.

_Thwack!_ "Insolent boy! You give no word or note. Half a decade! Such lack of courtesy, woe to those who spend time with you if you lack manner with them as well." _Thwack!_

"I'm sorry Master Agatha!" the young man curled up on himself, protecting his head with his hands and core with his legs. "Please, I beg pardon of you. I meant no offence and offer my deepest apologies!" He spoke in the formal tongue that Agatha favoured when irate. She was old enough to remember the days of older tongue, when formality was of the utmost importance when dealing with elders. And now she was one.

And like that the older trainer was the picture of calm and serenity. She sat in lotus on the mat and gestured for him to get up from his fetal position, "Get up then Mr. Ketchum. It has been far too long and I would have your story. What have you been up to laddy?" she smiled, her wrinkled face creasing further, eyes mere slits behind crinkles. She was dressed in magenta, foregoing her usual dress for pants and blouse with a long white woven sweater over it.

Ash blinked. Then agreed; telling stories was far better than the beating from the woman. Her cane was well worn and hardened with years; few in the league had not felt the sharp rap of the stave. Though the trainers the ghost master was closer with received the beating more oft than others. He sat up, carefully arranging his legs in lotus to appear formal and not risk another strike. And told his story of the past years.

A few hours passed perhaps. It was hard to say so deep below the mountain and without free chance to check his higher end PokéGear (a gift from Steven). Agatha listened in silence, attentive and polite, only interrupting to ask a question or clarify an element of the tale. The old woman had seen much and done a lot in her days, she had been one to travel with Oak, mentor him, before he gave up training to pursue furthering knowledge on Pokémon. Agatha however continued to train and took a place alongside the Elite Four. She'd held that position many decades now and was among the most famous trainers in any regional League.

_Thwack!_ "That's it? That's your excuse, training? Five _years_ of no word and your excuse is training!"

Ash tumbled over backwards, forehead smarting from the sharp blow to his head. Obviously she had expected something more from him than training. And that is truly most of what he had done, sequestering himself away in various environs across the regions, staying out towns and cities. He and his Pokémon lived off the land. Elite training had prepared him for the extended stay and much of the specifics of that training had brought him and his companions to a closer bond than ever before. The ancient trainer stood, continuing her tirade about courtesy and impoliteness and how young people in the modern day had fallen so far from her day. Ash might have been amused were it not for his rapidly developing bruises.

"And you spoke to Lance! Kept in touch with him! I ought to tell your mother you're hiding down here like a frightened child. When was the last time you spoke to _her_?" She stood over him with a wicked grin.

The trainer grimaced, winced and shuddered in rapid succession as the thought crossed his mind. He had in fact not spoken to any of his friends or family in a long time. He was twenty seven years old, not so old as to retire from competition as many did around the age of late twenties or early thirties, though some stayed on longer, but certainly not a new riser as many kids in their teens were in the League. And he had not seen his friends in several years, had not spoken to his mother since his victory in the Indigo Conference for Kanto. Some he had not seen in even longer, Misty for one, she had been absent his life for many years longer. She had not come to his championship battle at the Plateau. Brock had though, his old friend had attended both for his battles and as a consultant for breeding in the expo that each League had.

It hadn't been entirely his fault. Years ago when he had finished the Frontier Challenge a missive from Lance, an invitation, had been handed to him by a courier. Next thing the young trainer knew he had spent two years being tossed about as a training partner to the Kanto and Johto Elite Fours. He and Lorelei, the only member of the Elite younger than himself on the Indigo League, had spent the full 3 and a half months of Ice Time in the caverns of the Seafoam Islands training in extreme temperatures. Bruno had taken him aside and taught him further beyond that one stretch years earlier. Lance and he had become extremely close, as brothers, in the deepest levels of the Victory Road. Even Agatha and Karen, the two of the more standoffish members of the Elite had taught him much. Two years of constant training, most of it spent away from technology and society in the deep wilds of the world; in all the regions he had visited with the best of the League trainers, especially Lance, Steven and Cynthia.

He had re-emerged in the Sinnoh League, tearing through the gyms with ease using a varied team of his best battling Pokémon. And then he had moved on and taken each League tournament and using the interlining time to train even further. When finally he returned to Kanto and won the Silver Conference Lance, Cynthia and Steven had summoned him a chamber deep within the Plateau Citadel. There they had advised him to not challenge the Elites. He had heeded their advisement and left without adieu. He knew he would need to prepare and soon he was back in the wilds using well learned techniques from the Elites to survive.

"Ah shit."

_Whack!_ "Language young man! You've been gone five years! Years! Think about how your mother must feel about this."

"I know, I know Master Agatha. I didn't mean to be gone so long. It's just . . ."

"Training." A withered hand laid itself on his shoulder, its weight nearly unnoticeable. "I know laddy, got lost in the wilds didn't you. Lost in the work."

"Y–yes Master Agatha."

"I understand lad. Now then, I'm guessing you're staying down here to avoid the media. You disappeared you know, caused an uproar." She smirked, "And maybe your dear mother is best to be avoided eh?" she laughed. Well Ash found it to be more of a cackle than a laugh but he couldn't tell her that. Her moods were volatile and incomprehensible, much like the ghost Pokémon she raised. "I'll see you in a little while, I must pay Lance a visit I think." Her eyes seemed lit with a sinister light and Ash shuddered as a cold wind swept through the stale air. Master Agatha disappeared from the cave in the wake of that wind.

_**. — ◊ — .**_

"We now come to you with breaking news!" The reporter on the flat panel television spoke in clipped tones, "It has just come in that Ash Ketchum has been allegedly sighted at the Indigo Plateau. We now go to Gabby and Ty, our trainer specialists for more information."

The woman stopped cleaning immediately. Her Mr. Mime halted as well and both Pokémon and human focused on the screen and the words of the woman. Arms were slackened but hands gripping cloth and broom tightly. The screen cut to a young woman, blue haired and pale skinned standing with a mic before the backdrop of the Plateau Citadel.

"Thank you Michelle. Now the information has just come in but it appears that Ash Ketchum has returned from his self-imposed isolation in light of the announcement of the World Festival. For those too young to remember, some years ago Ash Ketchum was the THE trainer to watch in the Inter-regional League Battle Circuit. He was a household name and considered one of the greatest trainers of the generation before he mysteriously vanished following a stunning victory in the Silver Conference."

The anchor reporter's voice came over the system, "And why is it that it is believed he has returned now Gabby?"

"Well, photos have surfaced through the PokéNet showing a man that looks suspiciously like Ketchum in the Plateau Citadel." The video of the woman cut out and dark images appeared of two figures. "Now see the hat and jacket have been a staple of Ketchum's outfit for many years, the hat is in fact one that Ketchum began training with some seventeen years ago and has been present throughout his battling career." The image cycled again, "If these indicators were not enough a tail can been seen protruding from the pack carried by the man in the photo, this has been identified as that of a Pikachu and as anyone who followed the ILBC years ago knows, Ash Ketchum's Pikachu is nearly more famous than the trainer himself. Pikachu figurines and merchandise were among the highest selling League items during Ketchum's sweep of the conferences half a decade ago. The man with him is, at this time, unidentified although some fans have suggested it is Champion Lance."

"What can we expect if Ash Ketchum has indeed returned to the limelight?"

"Ah, well that is the question isn't it? There is no doubt that if the person in these photos is indeed Ketchum he has resurfaced for the World Festival. Now, this will do one of two things in the competitive battle community: one, it will drive away prospective trainers through the intimidation of this battling legend; or two, trainers will flock to the Festival in even greater droves to get a chance to see what Ketchum will bring to the events live. One thing is for certain, the Pokémon World Festival has just gotten even more high profile than previously seen in recent weeks."

Delia Ketchum blinked at the television screen as the report closed and the weather came up in an update for Kanto. She was a pretty woman in her late forties, slight traces of grey visible in her thick auburn hair. She wore a pale spring dress beneath a darker cardigan with a few small articles of jewelry; a necklace of white gold with a deep ruby set in it. Her eyes were a deep bright golden brown, eyes that were famous in the wider world due to her son. Delia was a slight woman, standing at a modest five foot five inches with a thin but womanly frame. She took pride in being regarded as quite the beauty in her younger years and even decades later she had aged well and retained that appeal.

"Ash . . ." her quiet delicate voice was nearly unheard in the room. "Mimey, get Samuel on the phone please." An unshed tear glittered in her eye as she stood, shocked in silence in her home.

"Mr. Mime!" the Pokémon bustled off to the foyer, punching the number of the professor into the holographic display of the videophone.

The woman sedately wandered into the entrance of her home and waited by the display as it dialed and connected to Oak's phone. Her son . . . she hadn't seen him in years. He had disappeared, vanished without a trace, presumably into the wilds to train. She smiled faintly, his passion so like his father's. Delia admired his dedication, the fire that burned in those eyes when he was in battle; the love that glowed in them when he was with his Pokémon. Still though, what had happened to her baby? He used to call, used to check in and update her on what was going on in his. He used to care about his friends and family. And now? No one had heard anything from him in half a decade. But maybe he was back. And no word . . .

Oak's face appeared on the screen, the Indigo Plateau stretching out behind him. So she had been connected to his PokéGear. "Hello? Ah Delia, how are you?" The famous researcher smiled. The many lines on his face crinkling with the action. Despite the age clear on his face in the worn leathery skin and the ruffled grey mop atop his head, the eyes burned brightly behind the perpetual squint the old man had. Thick bushy eyebrows knitted together and white teeth shined in the sun behind, glowing behind the tanned skin. Oak was a hands on researcher and it showed in his face.

"Hi Samuel." She trailed off.

"Mm seen the news have you?" the smile faded from the aged face.

"Yes . . . I was wondering if you'd had any news? He's been gone for so long, if the rumours are true then I want to know."

"I'm sorry Delia I haven't heard anything. I can ask around though, if anyone knows if Ash is back it will be Lance, or maybe Agatha." A gnarled hand rubbed the professor's face, scratching over the grey stubble. "Lance and Ash became quite close some years ago, and Agatha took him under her wing for some training. All of the Elite Four did really. Your son, he has a way with people and Pokémon. Quite extraordinary."

"Thank you Samuel, I need to know." Delia smiled faintly. She pushed on, switching gears with some effort, "How is the planning going? Busy?"

"Oh yes," the professor laughed and smiled, "It's quite exciting really. This is every Pokémon lover's dream. The World Festival is the summation of everything the League represents, the Champions really had a flash of brilliance with it."

The mother smiled, Professor Oak was as passionate as her son when it came to Pokémon and it warmed her heart. "That's wonderful Samuel."

"Yes, yes. So much to do though, everyone is very busy. Brock and Misty are here as well. And I am working with Gary as well, the boy is really quite a brilliant researcher in his own right. But, Delia listen if you want I can arrange for you to come to the Plateau if you'd like. If your son is here, he'll turn up soon enough, he's never been one to hide out for very long. And you can ask Lance yourself, you'd probably have more luck dragging it out of our Champion than I." Oak smiled again.

"Oh I couldn't impose—"

"Nonsense! It's nothing really, with everything going on the League is being very accommodating. I'll have Charizard come down with an air chariot to pick you up."

"Oh my, thank you Sam. I'll have to go pack."

"Of course, of course. I'll see you in the next few days then Delia, take your time. There's no rush." Oak smiled and the connection went dead.

Delia wrung the cloth in her hand out nervously. She turned and rushed away to her room, up the stairs and down the hall. The mother paused by the open door of her son's room, it was the exact same as it had been when he had left for the first time nearly twenty years ago. The blue Pokémon bedspread, the posters of the Kanto Silver Conference. The books about Pokémon and the memorabilia from different tournaments that he had watched on the television obsessively, along with the many volumes of recordings. And there, above the large double bed a shelf she had put up many years earlier. It was laden with many trophies and ribbons, anything from every competition Ash had ever been in, starting from his first attempt at the Silver Conference as a ten year old. The uppermost shelf was the most decorated, the largest trophies from the six largest competitions that he had ever competed in and won; the glittering silver and gold and crystal of the championship trophies from Sinnoh, Hoenn, Johto, Kanto, Orange and the Battle Frontier. Those were among the last she had received from her boy, each arriving by premium courier following the victories. He hadn't returned home between the competitions.

In her own room it was Spartan. The room was plain with a large bed on a deep warm wood frame with matching wardrobe and dresser with a large mirror. On the dresser before the mirror were framed phots of her son and his friends, both Pokémon and human. She smiled, picking up one of a young boy in blue and black, the hat on his head still comparatively new. A small yellow Pokémon was perched on his shoulder, mouth open in exclamation. The boy's arms was around the shoulders of a girl with fiery orange hair and a freckled complexion. She too was smiling brightly, her cheeks flushed. Behind the two was an older boy with dark skin and rugged appearance. Things were so simple then, there had been so much joy and hope in the trio's eyes. And now, they were fractured.

Delia wiped her eyes and drew out a bag from a closet. She puttered about, packing clothing away neatly and with practiced efficiency. In a few minutes she was ready for a trip and took the bag downstairs, setting it down next to the door. Mr. Mime had continued cleaning, joyfully singing his own name to himself as he went about his business. The kettle was hot and she smiled appreciatively at the Pokémon, brewing herself a small pot of tea and sitting at her sunny kitchen table. She sipped the scalding liquid and sighed. She wanted to see her son again and maybe soon she would.

_**. — ◊ — .**_

_**A/N:** Again if anyone wants an OC trainer with a six member battling team feel free to drop a PM or review with details and I'll work them into the Festival events. Questions and comments can be given the same treatment and I will endeavor to respond to anything specific. Again, this is slow updating but I am up to Ch III in terms of writing ahead._


End file.
